


In the Hogwarts Library

by mysid



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Hogwarts Houses, Libraries, Marauders' Era, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 04:58:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8954578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysid/pseuds/mysid
Summary: "Magic isn’t the only thing worth studying at Hogwarts.  My fellow students are worth studying as well.  The more I know about human behavior, about the behavior of these particular humans, the better prepared I am for the future.  These are my future allies and my future foes, and soon the stakes will be higher than house points."





	1. Severus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: Hogwarts and its students belong to J.K. Rowling. (Although I did make up a few students to round out the cast.) I wrote this story back in 2003, so I didn't yet know Severus's backstory with Lily.
> 
> “Vae victis” means “Woe to the vanquished.”

**In the Hogwarts Library  
Chapter One- Severus**

“I’m going to the library to study.” It’s a simple statement, easy to understand, straightforward—except for the fact that it actually has two very different meanings. If one truly wishes to find a quiet place to work, those places do exist within the Hogwarts Library, out of the way desks and tables hidden deep within the stacks. One can work here uninterrupted, surrounded by the accumulated knowledge of generations of witches and wizards. Even the dust motes gliding through the shafts of sunlight seem especially charged with magic back here. Whether it is because of their association with the enchanted books, or because they were once part of those books, now decaying with age, or perhaps it is just my imagination running wild in the silence and solitude. 

However, for many students, the phrase, “I’m going to library,” means something very different. The front of the library, with its large tables ringed with chairs, and a few well-placed comfortable armchairs in cozy groups, is a meeting place, a gathering place, a place to see and to be seen. The focus there is not on books and on studies, but on other students. Yes, students do some work there, if they need to do research or if they wish to work with students from another house, but the truly serious ones will make their way to some out of the way corner. Those who choose to stay in the busy front have a divided interest between their books and those coming and going.

When I wish to study, I go straight to a desk I found tucked away in the Potions section. It’s almost always available. Those of us who are serious about our studies each seem to have one favorite desk here, and we each respect each other’s space. My nearest “neighbor” in the library is a Ravenclaw third year. He was nervous every time I walked by him when he was a first year, but now he’s realized that I follow the same, “You don’t bother me, and I won’t bother you,” rule that all the library hermits follow. I came to Hogwarts to study magic, to learn as much as I could, to become as knowledgeable, as powerful as I could. I see no reason to waste my study time socializing or antagonizing. 

The only time I ever have competition for my desk is when exams draw near. The idiots who wasted their time all term suddenly realize that they need to revise, and some of them try to force themselves to work diligently by seeking out the quiet corners of the library. It was a problem when I was younger, but now—few students in the school dare to antagonize a Slytherin fifth year with a reputation for expertise in curses. Even to Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws older than myself, I need only say, “That’s _my_ desk,” and they throw their belongings into their bags in a blind panic and flee.

I confess. I do sometimes select a place near the front to pretend to read, but only after my work is done. Even then, I’m not wasting my time. After all, magic isn’t the only thing worth studying at Hogwarts. My fellow students are worth studying as well. The more I know about human behavior, about the behavior of these particular humans, the better prepared I am for the future. These are my future allies and my future foes, and soon the stakes will be higher than house points. I intend to know them as well as they know themselves. 

Actually, I’ll probably know them better. Few people really know themselves as well as they should. One needs to know one’s own strengths, and even more importantly, one should know one’s own weaknesses. If you don’t, you won’t thrive in this world. You may not even survive.

An hour until dinner. Time enough for a bit of people watching. Who’s doing something interesting today? Here comes Evans, moving up from her favorite desk hidden away in the Charms section to sit at one of the small almost-out-of the-way tables near the front. Of course. Quidditch practice should have ended by now. Evans gets her real work out of the way before meeting Potter for a “study date.” Why they bother with the pretense of studying together is a mystery to me. She knows she won’t get anything accomplished with him, and he never bothers to study. If they want to be together so badly, they ought to just go find some empty classroom and shag each other senseless. Her face just lit up. The Quidditch hero must be in sight. 

Her weakness—him. She’s always been both intelligent and hardworking. The Sorting Hat must have been having an off day when it didn’t put her in Ravenclaw. If she’s not careful, his tendency to coast by on raw talent alone might rub off. So far, she’s resisting temptation. Getting her work done while he’s at practice is a good sign. 

His weaknesses—quite a few. First of all, that raw talent I mentioned. So much just comes so naturally to him that he’s never had to cultivate discipline. If there is any justice in this world—and there probably isn’t— it will catch up to him someday. Some people think that I resent it when Potter and Black best me with their grades because I’m jealous. They’re wrong. I resent it because they didn’t earn those grades. If they had worked for those grades, I wouldn’t care in the least. I don’t care when Lupin beats me in Defense or Evans beats me in Charms. I do care when Black and Potter beat me in anything.  
Now that’s interesting. Pettigrew is talking to Jemma Greenleaf over between those two bookcases. Is this an innocent, “Excuse me, I’m an idiot and I can’t find a certain book,” conversation, or is he flirting? Blushing just a bit, surreptitiously wiping his sweaty palms on his robe, laughing together. This is _very_ interesting. I wonder if Pettigrew has any idea that he’s playing with fire. Greenleaf may be in Ravenclaw, but she has quite a few Slytherin relatives. If Liegeard were even to suspect that a Gryffindor has been sniffing around his cousin, he’d skin them both alive. 

They’re actually leaving the library together. Idiots. If they’re seen together here, she might be able to bluff her way out of it when Liegeard confronts her. But if they’re seen together in the halls—Liegeard will be furious. Not that I care what he does to Pettigrew, but Greenleaf doesn’t deserve to face Liegeard’s wrath for “dishonoring the family.” LeStrange is checking out a book, but I’m not sure if he saw them.

Evans might listen if I warn her to warn Pettigrew, but there’s no way to talk to her when she’s with Potter. I wonder if Lupin’s here? Or is he off doing God-knows-what with Black? He’s enough of a regular here that I know in which hidden corner to look for him, but chances are just as good that he isn’t here. He’s a strange one. For two or three weeks, he’ll be here almost every day, and then he vanishes. A week or two will go by and he won’t set foot in here. I guess his lazy friends rub off on him, and then when he realizes how far behind he’s getting, it’s back to the books. Not all the Gryffindors can coast by on natural brilliance.

Past the Rune dictionary, three aisles and then turn right, past the alcove where the Ravenclaws leave books open for the Grey Lady to read, turn left, and—I’m in luck, or rather, Pettigrew’s in luck. I think I almost recognize Lupin better from the back than the front. I’d have to be an idiot to sit _in front_ of any of those four in Potions.

“Is there something I can do for you, Severus?”

How does he do that? I swear Lupin has eyes in the back of his head.

“I saw Pettigrew with Jemma Greenleaf.”

“And?” 

He’s giving me his full attention now, but his expression is undecided. He’s trying to decide if I’m threatening or warning. I don’t intend to obviously do either. A threat makes Gryffindors obstinately determined to defy, and a warning would make me appear soft.

“I just wondered if he knew that she’s Charles Liegeard’s cousin.”

“I wouldn’t know. Is there anything else?”

The best answer to that is silence and walking away.

“Severus? As long as you’re here, may I ask you a question?”

I pause and acquiesce with a nod of the head.

“I thought that you couldn’t use belladonna and spiny henbane in the same potion because they cancel each other’s effects, but several sleeping potions seem to use both.” He gestures toward his open Potions text as he speaks. “What am I overlooking?”

Sleeping potions. We’re beginning them in a few days. I didn’t know Lupin liked to work ahead.

“You’re making two mistakes that are very typical for Gryffindors. First, you think it’s acceptable to ask others for the answers you should find yourself, but unlike your friends, I think you should do your own work. Second, you’re generalizing. Although belladonna and spiny henbane do frequently cancel each other out, there are exceptions. If you were to read _Enchanted Sleep_ by Morphia Langour or _An Herbal Index_ by Zenobia Bloom, you’d know what those exceptions are.”

“Thank you, Severus. I’ll take a look at those.”

He’s making note of the titles. I guess he’s going through one of his studious phases; it’ll end soon enough. I’ll make my escape before this conversation gets any more sickeningly civil. Lupin may be less objectionable than his three cohorts, but he’s still someone I don’t want to be seen as being friendly toward.

Still time until dinner. Maybe I’ll drop my books off in my dormitory before going to the Great Hall. It’s an odd numbered day, so the staircase behind the Re’em hunt tapestry will bring me to the dungeons instead of the owlery. A useful shortcut when it’s here. It seems strange to climb up in order to go down, but it wouldn’t be Hogwarts if it didn’t contain these deceptions. Where is that green stone?—there! Now three more paces and,

“Vae Victis.” 

We really should change our password soon. We’ve had this one since the beginning of term, and those obnoxious Gryffindors are overdue to try to breaking in here once again with one of their foolish pranks. I’ll bring it up with the other Slytherin prefects tonight.

“—with Peter Pettigrew all the way to the Ravenclaw Common Room entrance.”

“You’re sure they were actually _together_ and not just walking in the same direction?”

Bad news travels fast. Rosier couldn’t wait to share this juicy gossip with Liegeard. 

“Yes, I’m sure. He walked her to that big statue near the Ravenclaw Common Room, said he’d see her after dinner, then he went back up the stairs toward Gryffindor tower.”

“I saw them together in the library,” LeStrange says. “I think Severus did too.”

LeStrange did see. By the time I spoke to Lupin, it was already too late.

“That stupid little tramp. What did you see or hear, Severus?”

Liegeard looks furious. I wouldn’t want to be in Greenleaf’s or Pettigrew’s shoes. Maybe I can still shield _her_ a bit; _he_ is on his own.

“Not much. Pettigrew started talking to her, she left the library to get away from him, but he tagged along with her. You ought to teach her a few devastating insults to use on unwelcome suitors.”

“Unwelcome?” Liegeard asks.

Come on, Liegeard. You don’t have to believe me. Just pretend that you do, and your precious “family honor” will be spared the taint of association with a Gryffindor.

“Of course ‘unwelcome,’ Charles. You know your cousin. If she were really going to lower herself to associating with a Gryffindor, do you think she’d choose that pipsqueak _Pettigrew_?”

There’s the cold, calculating smile we know so well. Good boy, Liegeard, you’ve caught on.

“I don’t know,” Rosier says slowly. “They looked awfully friendly to me. She smiled at him, and she put her hand on his arm when she said good-bye.”

Damn you, Rosier. You just won’t be happy until you’ve stirred up as much trouble as possible. Liegeard dismisses this information with an imperious wave of his hand. 

“She’s just too polite for her own good. She didn’t know how to get rid of him.”

That’s it, Liegeard. Be her defender. If you think her reputation affects your “family honor,” keep her reputation unblemished.

“And since she doesn’t know how to get rid of Pettigrew, we’ll have to do it for her.”

No way to avoid it. At least he isn’t a Mudblood. They won’t be tempted to kill him; they’ll be content to just hurt him and scare him a bit. Neither will be difficult with that runt.

“Before we deal with Pettigrew, we have to get him away from his ‘bodyguards.’ Those damn Gryffindor fifth years like to travel in a pack. What do you suggest, Severus?”

“Evan overheard Pettigrew say that he wants to see Greenleaf after dinner, correct? Whatever he has in mind, I doubt very much that he is planning on bringing his entourage. Greenleaf was probably just planning on avoiding him, but if you were to ask her to, she could make plans to meet him somewhere, somewhere isolated and out-of-the-way.”

“But we meet him instead.”

I nod once. “Not only does Pettigrew learn his lesson, but word will get around school that she set him up. Everyone will understand that she never had any interest in him, that she was merely setting him up for you. No one undeserving of her will ever dare go near her again.”

Yes, I see that appeals to you, Liegeard. Not only will your cousin redeem herself in the eyes of your housemates, but you won’t have to fear a repeat of this episode after you graduate this year. Now you just have to convince your cousin to go along with deceiving her would-be suitor. Though, if she knows you as well as I do, she won’t dare defy you. Liegeard is looking at his watch. 

“I’ll go speak to her now. I should be able to intercept her on the way to the Great Hall. We’ll have a little chat about what she should say to that damn midget Gryffindor. Who wants to join me in teaching the upstart a lesson later?” 

Several immediately volunteer: Rosier wants to get back in Liegeard’s good graces after being the bearer of bad news, Palatine and Diffin like any opportunity to inflict pain, and LeStrange has to follow the crowd. There’s no way I can get out of it. It was my plan, and everyone knows I hate Potter and his flunkies. It’ll seem suspicious if I don’t volunteer. Liegeard looks at me, and I nod my head. Good thing I already finished my homework; looks like I’ll be busy tonight.


	2. Peter

**In the Hogwarts Library  
Chapter Two- Peter**

_“Ask her out, you twit.”_ Easy for Sirius to say. Tall, handsome, smart—girls practically throw themselves at his feet in hopes that he’ll notice them. How could he know how terrifying it is to ask a girl out when you _know_ that she’ll say, “no”? I mean, why would Jemma go out with me? I’m short, I’m a bit overweight—fat, Peter, say it, other people do. What could she see in me? O.K., she’s a Ravenclaw, so maybe she prefers brains over looks. Even there I lose. I’m not stupid, I know I’m not, but it certainly seems like I am. How could anyone seem smart sitting beside James and Sirius? Top two students of the year—every year—and I look stupid in comparison. 

Hexed quills. Remus and I said last year that we should hex the quills that James and Sirius were using for exams so they’d at least get a few answers wrong. There Remus and I were revising like mad, while James and Sirius were off raiding the kitchen or something, and we _knew_ that the two of them would still get better grades than the two of us. It just wasn’t fair. Of course, Remus was only joking. 

It looks like she’s done. If I don’t speak to her soon, she’ll leave the library and I’ll lose my chance. C’mon, Peter, you can do this. Even Remus said that he thinks she likes me. Remus is usually right about these things.

“Hi, Jemma. What are you reading?”

“Oh, Peter—hi. Um, I was just doing a bit of background reading on transfiguration theory.”

“Really? For a report or just curious?” Damn, I wish my palms wouldn’t sweat when I’m nervous.

“Well, trans-species transfiguration seems to be giving me a bit of a problem in class. I thought that if I went back to the basics, I might figure what I’m doing wrong.”

“Maybe I could help you.” She looks surprised. Why? Do you think I’m too stupid to help a Ravenclaw? Three years of learning how to become an animagus tends to teach one a few things about Transfiguration, you know. “I happen to be good at trans-species transfiguration. At the very least, I might be able to tell what you’re doing wrong. I’ve probably made every mistake there is and then learned how _not_ to do that again.”

She laughed, but she’s smiling and nodding. What do you know—self-deprecating humor works. Remus has rubbed off on me.

“I think I’ll take you up on your offer, Peter. I’m supposed to meet some friends in my common room before dinner. Would you like to walk with me?”

“Sure.” 

“So, what were you working on in the library?”

Just killing time until I got up the nerve to speak to you. “Oh, Remus and I were doing our astronomy charts, but then he wanted to go work on Potions so I was just getting ready to leave.”

“I didn’t see Remus with you.”

“No, he disappeared off into the back of the library so he could concentrate better. Do the Ravenclaws really leave books open for the Grey Lady back there?”

“Yes, she tells one of us a book she’s interested in, and we open it to the first page. Then first thing in the morning, and again just before the library closes, one of the prefects turns each of the books she’s reading one page. They use a charm to hold the books open to the right page, unless the books can’t be charmed, then they use a Muggle thing called a book weight. She usually has about a dozen open at once.”

“Why doesn’t she just turn the pages herself?”

Jemma giggles at my question. “She can’t; she’s a ghost.”

“But Peeves can move things.” I wish she wouldn’t laugh at me.

“Peeves is a poltergeist, not a ghost. There’s a difference you know.”

I know there’s a difference. I just didn’t know that was one of the differences.

“Doesn’t Nearly Headless Nick ever ask the Gryffindors to do anything for him?”

“Well, one night he hung around the common room begging us to find a way to sever his head, but that was because he was depressed. He had applied to join this club for headless ghosts but they wouldn’t take him. We wanted to help; we even researched the problem,” well, Remus and Sirius did, “but since his form as a ghost is determined by his form when he died, there was nothing we could do.”

“Poor Nick,” Jemma says sadly. 

The statue of Rowena Ravenclaw with an eagle on her shoulder—we’re here already. 

“This is where I have to leave you,” she says.

“Do you want to practice Transfiguration later?”

“Yes, I would, if you don’t mind. We can meet right after dinner.”

“O.K., I’ll keep an eye out for you in the Great Hall. I’d better go so I don’t overhear your password. You wouldn’t want a troublesome Gryffindor to be able to break in and wreak havoc.” Self-deprecating humor works again: she laughs, she puts her hand on my arm, and for a second I think she considers kissing me. Yes! This is a good day.

* * * * *

“Hello, Mr. Black!” 

“Hello, Mr. Pettigrew. Why are you looking so pleased with yourself, may I inquire? And where are Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin?”

“The last time I saw them, Mr. Potter and Mr. Lupin were both in the library. One was cuddled up with a redhead, and the other was cuddled up with a potions text. Remus said he’d meet us here by six, but if he forgets, we should go to dinner without him, and he’ll hit the kitchen later. And I’m looking pleased with myself because I got up the nerve to talk to Jemma Greenleaf today.”

“Good for you, Peter! How did it go? Did you make a date for Hogsmeade?”

“It went well; I think she likes me. I didn’t bring up Hogsmeade yet, but she said that she’s having trouble with inter-species transfiguration, and I offered to try to help.”

“Good idea. James and I have certainly put you through your paces on those.”

“Tell me about it. Every weekend it’s like the two of you turn into McGonagall.”

“At least you’re getting great grades in Transfiguration this term, and with any luck, we’ll have an even better reward soon.”

“ _You’ll_ get the hang of it soon. I don’t think I’m anywhere near as close.”

Sirius shakes his head. “It’s just that one last step. I can’t quite wrap my mind around it yet, but once I do, I think I’ll be able to explain it to you and James, and then you should be right behind me. Or, James will figure it out and explain it to both of us. Either way, once one of us gets it, the others won’t be far behind.”

Of course, no possibility that I’ll figure it out first. I wish there were, just so I could surprise them, but—how does that expression go? _“If wishes were horses, then beggars would fly.”_ What a stupid expression; it never did make sense. James and Remus are back. 

“Gentlemen, you’ll never guess what our esteemed friend Mr. Pettigrew did today,” Sirius says with a grin.

“Spoke with Jemma Greenleaf in the library,” Remus says as he drops a very heavy bag beside his trunk.

“No secrets around here,” I laugh. “Which one of you saw me?”

“Snape,” Remus replies. “He made a point of coming and finding me in the library just to tell me that you were talking to her and asked if you knew that she’s Charles Liegeard’s cousin.”

“Oh shit.” No, I didn’t know. How on earth can a nice girl like Jemma be related to a scary Slytherin like Liegeard?

“When is that slimy-haired git going to learn to keep his nose out of other people’s business?” Sirius says furiously. 

“Well, when a nose is that large, it is rather difficult to keep it to oneself,” Remus replies.

“But he’s trying to scare Peter into staying away! Whatever happens between Peter and Jemma should be between Peter and Jemma. It’s not Liegeard’s business, and it certainly isn’t Snape’s.”

“For whatever it’s worth, I didn’t get the impression that Snape cared about it. He just seemed to be implying that Liegeard might care.”

* * * * *

“Eat something, Peter. You’ll keel over from low blood sugar in the middle of your date.” 

“From low what?”

“Just eat,” Sirius urges again. 

“Leave him alone. I can’t eat when I’m nervous either,” James says. That’s true. James never eats before a Quidditch match. He just pushes things around on his plate—like I’m doing now.

“Well, it isn’t a date. We’re just practicing Transfiguration together.” Maybe Jemma’s done eating. “I think I’ll go see if Jemma’s ready to go.”

Remus grabs my arm and pulls me back down. “Give her five more minutes. Not everyone goes off their food when they’re nervous, and you don’t want her to have to rush through her dinner.”

“Here take these,” James says as he gives me a white paper bag. A faint buzzing noise like insect wings comes from inside. “Fudge flies. If it catches up to you later that you skipped dinner, eat a few of these. Just remember to ‘impedimenta’ them before you open the bag or they’ll fly all over.”

“Thanks.” Somehow the idea of fudge flies seems just right. Dinner is _not_ appealing to me, but something sweet and chocolatey is.

“James? Where did you get fudge flies? I don’t remember you buying any the last time we went into Hogsmeade,” Remus asks.

“I got them from your bedside table, of course, Moony.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Unwritten rule of our dormitory. Anything, especially sweets, in our bedside tables is fair game for us all. Anything in our trunks, like James’s cloak, you have to ask first. Besides, Remus doesn’t like chocolate this close to the full moon.

“Can I go see if Jemma’s ready to go yet?”

“All right,” Remus says, “but if she’s still eating, just sit down beside her and talk with her until she’s done. Don’t make her feel rushed.”

“Listen to the dating expert,” Sirius snorts. 

That was mean. It isn’t Remus’s fault he’s never had a date. 

“One doesn’t have to have snogged half the school to know something about common courtesy, Sirius,” Remus replies. He said it calmly, but he stared at Sirius as he said it. Remus stares at people when he’s angry.

Jemma is easy to find. I watched her come in earlier, alone and running a bit late, so I knew where she was sitting. Her plate is still full of food, so I take Remus’s advice and sit in the empty place to her left.

“Hi, I finished eating so I thought I’d come over and wait for you.”

“Actually, I’m not too hungry tonight,” Jemma replies. 

She places her flatware down on her plate. She must be as nervous as I am. Actually, it’s kind of a compliment. She’s nervous about being around _me_. This is amazing.

“Do you want to go get started on Transfiguration? I know how to get into an empty classroom on the fourth floor. We could go practice there.” Jemma is silent for several moments. Maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s realized this is almost like dating, and she doesn’t want to date me.

“I have to get something I left in my dormitory,” she says. She sounds sad. I wonder what’s wrong? “Could you meet me somewhere?”

“Sure.” She hands me a piece of parchment with directions to a room with a hidden entrance requiring a password. Sirius found this one just last month. It’s got a great view of the Quidditch pitch. He’ll be disappointed that we aren’t the only ones who know about it. “Yeah, I know where this is,” I say. 

“Don’t tell your friends where you’re going. I’ll meet you there soon.” 

“O.K.” 

Jemma walks out very quickly. I guess she’s in a hurry to get whatever it is that she forgot. A hidden room, don’t tell my friends where I’m going, this is starting to sound less like studying together and more like a date.

* * * * *

Here it is, the tapestry of a wizard riding on a green dragon. The door behind it is invisible until—what’s the password again? It says on the parchment. 

“Fire breath.” Good, now there’s a door behind the tapestry. It’s dark in here. Strange. I don’t remember any curtains on the windows; there should be light from outside.

“Lumos.” Well, that didn’t help much. Now all I see is myself in the center of shadows. Moving shadows. Oh, shit—moving black cloaks—I’m not alone in here.


	3. Remus

**In the Hogwarts Library  
Chapter Three- Remus**

I don’t know why I let Sirius get under my skin like that. He teases everybody. He never means anything by it. He expected me to laugh and instead I got angry. _“Listen to the dating expert.”_ It was a fair shot. I’ve never been on a date, and I was giving advice to Peter. I was supposed to laugh. Instead I think I single-handedly dropped the temperature at the table five degrees. 

I’d better go so James will feel free to talk about Lily with Sirius. There’s no way he’ll do so if I’m sitting here glaring at Sirius for the dating crack.

“I’m going to go back to the library. I still have a lot to do.”

“Anything I can help with, Moony?” His eyes are cast down; he knows I’m angry.

“No thanks, Sirius.” Don’t worry; you’re forgiven. “Actually, I was having trouble understanding how belladonna and spiny henbane could be used in the same potion, but I asked Severus and—”

“Snape! You asked that _dungeon dweller_ for help instead of me! I don’t believe you, Remus.”

“Well, he was there, and you weren’t—”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“—AND he’s good in Potions. I had a Potions question, so I asked.”

“But _Snape_? How could you go talk to Snape?”

“I didn’t; he came over to talk to me, remember? Peter, Jemma, Liegeard. Is any of this ringing a bell?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t realize that you and _Severus_ had a whole chummy conversation.”

“Oh grow up, Sirius. I’m going to the library.”

“Of course you are. Got a hot study date with a certain Slytherin, don’t you?”

He mumbles the last comment as I walk away, but I have very good hearing. He knows it. He knew I’d hear him. But I’m not sure James intended for me to hear what he says to Sirius.

“Do you have _any idea_ how much you sounded like a jealous boyfriend just now?”

“Don’t be daft, James.”

Sometimes I just really, _really_ want to growl. Big, loud, scary _growl_. I don’t know if it’s because the full moon is the day after tomorrow, or if it’s because Sirius is driving me insane, but right now—

Crying. Someone is crying. “Hello? Who’s there?” 

No answer, but whoever it is, is trying to stop crying. Follow the sound. “Can I help?” There, in the alcove by the window. A girl—Jemma! Why isn’t she with Peter?

“Jemma? Is something wrong?” Of course, something’s wrong, you idiot; she’s crying, isn’t she? “I thought you and Peter were going to practice Transfiguration together.”

“I did—I did a terrible thing, but I was so afraid of him.”

Afraid of Peter? “It’s O.K., there’s nothing to be afraid of now, Jemma. You’re safe.” She _does_ look terrified.

“No, I’m not, but that’s no excuse. You have to save him, Remus. Don’t let my cousin hurt him.”

Oh God, Liegeard is going to hurt Peter. “Where are they, Jemma?” 

“On the fifth floor, there’s a room behind a tapestry of a wizard riding on a Welsh Green.”

“Is it just your cousin, or did he bring others?”

“I don’t know.”

Probably others. I’ll need Sirius and James.

“I’m so sorry. Tell Peter I’m sorry,” Jemma calls after me as I run back to the Great Hall. There they are, just coming out—Yes! James and Sirius are talking to Willaston and McElroy. A couple of seventh year Gryffindor Quidditch players might be exactly who we need.

 

“Follow me! NOW!” James and Sirius don’t need to be told twice, but—“You too!” I yell back at Willaston and McElroy. 

“Where are we going?” James asks as he runs behind me.

“To save Peter from the Slytherins. The room behind the Welsh Green tapestry, Sirius, is this the fastest way?” 

“Yeah, at the end of the corridor, take the stairs that curve right. Just two flights up.”

Sometimes I hate the eccentricities of Hogwarts stairs, and sometimes they work in your favor. Fifth floor—unicorn tapestry—Golden Snidget hunt tapestry—Welsh Green!

“FIRE BREATH!” Sirius, James, and I all yell together.

* * * * *

I love being around my friends; I really do. The silence calls out to be filled with their voices and laughter. But it is _difficult_ to work around my friends. How can I be expected to care about Goblin Rebellions when James is enchanting rolled up socks to fly around the room in Quidditch formations? How can I concentrate on arithmancy computations when Sirius is lying on my bed singing “Blue Moon”? And so, I drag myself out of Gryffindor tower and hide away in the library. 

My mum says that the library was her favorite place in the castle, but Mum is a Ravenclaw. So was my father. Sometimes I wonder if I would have been one if I hadn’t been bitten. There’s no way to know, really, how different a person I might have been. How much of me is human? How much is wolf? I don’t want to be here doing this stupid Potions assignment. I want to be with my friends. Or is that the wolf wanting to be with his pack?

I smell Snape’s shampoo. Nasty stuff. Strongest that Mrs. Scower’s makes. Madam Pomfrey had me use it once after an accident in Potions. I thought it would burn my hair off.

“Hello, Severus.” It drives him nuts that I can recognize him without looking.

“Hello, Lupin. I heard Liegeard gave Pettigrew a bit of a fright.”

I look up at the smug bastard. “If you can call a black eye, two cracked ribs, and an aging hex ‘a bit of a fright’.”

“He suffered no lasting injuries, so, yes, I can.”

“Liegeard didn’t act alone.” You were there.

“Yes, I heard that Diffin and LeStrange are also in trouble for this prank.”

“There were six.”

“Six? Really? Pity that three got away unidentified.”

“You were there.” He’s silent for a moment. He wonders if I know, or if I suspect.

“You really shouldn’t accuse me without proof, Lupin.”

“You were the one who stunned Liegeard before he could slip away.” He blinks. He wonders how I know. It was dark; things were confused. 

“You shouldn’t speculate on things you can’t prove.”

“No, I can’t prove it. I haven’t mentioned it to anyone, nor will I. Thank you for recommending these Potions texts to me. They’re helpful.”

He nods and leaves. I wonder why he came over? I can’t do any more homework tonight; the words on the pages just aren’t making sense. The rest will have to wait until after tomorrow’s moon. I’ll go pay Peter another visit in the hospital wing—but first, a detour to the kitchen and get him something he’ll like. It’s kind of nice being the one visiting the patient instead of being the patient. I’ll be the patient again soon enough. Sirius is in the library. That’s funny, he didn’t say anything when I said that I was coming here.

“What’re you working on?” I glance at his text—sleeping potions. Sirius is working ahead. Will wonders never cease?

“Snape just left the library. Did you two have another chummy little _chat_ in the back?”

I shouldn’t rise to the bait; I know I shouldn’t. But that damned snarky tone he’s using, it just rubs me the wrong way. “We did actually. I’m on my way to see Peter in the hospital wing. Come if you want.” I leave without waiting to see if he is following, but I listen. He isn’t.

* * * * *

“You can stay for half an hour, and not a minute more. Peter needs to sleep for the antidote to work properly. And what are you trying to hide behind your back, Remus?” 

“Éclairs for Peter. _Please_ , Madam Pomfrey. He always brings me treats when I’m in here.”

“All right. I’ll just remind him to brush his teeth tonight.”

She pulls the door open wider, and I go around her. Sirius is sitting beside Peter’s bed. 

“Get lost on your way between the library and the hospital wing? Take a detour by the dungeons?” 

Drop the nasty tone, Sirius. My temper can only handle so much the night before. “No, I detoured by the kitchen—ta da! For you!” Peter gets a big smile when he sees the plate full of éclairs. It’s really strange seeing all those wrinkles put into action when he smiles. At least he’s a lot less wrinkled than he was last night. He’s even less wrinkled than he was at lunchtime.

“Thanks, Remus! Madam Pomfrey hasn’t let me have anything really good to eat since I’ve been in here.”

“When is she letting you out?”

“She says I should be ready to go back to classes tomorrow afternoon or the next morning, but my hair will still be grey until it grows out. She said that Professor Zabini offered to make a potion that restores grey hair to its original color.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sirius says with a grin. “Grey hair will give you something to talk about. Imagine all the girls who will come up and ask you about it.” Yeah, that’s Sirius. If it makes the girls notice you, it must be good.

“But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Then take Zabini up on his offer,” I say. I can understand not wanting to stand out.

“Has—uh—has Jemma visited you yet?” Sirius asks. He seems almost afraid to ask. I guess he realizes it might upset Peter to talk about her. Peter shakes his head.

“She’s probably afraid to,” I say. “She’s afraid that you’re angry with her, _and_ she’s afraid that Liegeard will be angry with her if he finds out that she visited you. She’s _really_ afraid of him.”

Peter nods. “You’ll see her in Herbology tomorrow morning. Tell her that I’m not angry with her. I know she got frightened into doing what Liegeard wanted, but—tell her that she doesn’t have to worry about me being around her and making her cousin angry. I don’t want to be around her anymore. Liegeard wins.”

“You can’t let that Slytherin bully push you around, Peter.”

“No, Sirius. This is Peter’s decision to make—Peter’s and Jemma’s. ‘Whatever happens between Peter and Jemma should be between Peter and Jemma.’ Or does that just apply to Snape?”

Sirius opens his mouth to speak, but then slumps back in his chair. “O.K., Moony. Throw that back in my face, why don’t you?”

 

Madam Pomfrey doesn’t lose track of time, and all too soon, Sirius and I are escorted out. 

“Those éclairs looked good, Moony. You don’t suppose there are any more down in the kitchen, do you?”

“If there aren’t, you just have to drop a hint to the right house elf and there will be.”

“Shall we proceed to the kitchen, Mr. Moony?”

“Indeed we shall, Mr. Black, but I think I’ll have a steak.” We head in the right direction.

“Mmm, that sounds good too.”

“You don’t have to have what I’m having. I think I stopped being self-conscious about my ‘week of the full moon’ cravings a couple of years ago, at least around you.”

“No, really. A big, juicy steak, cooked to medium, and—”

“Cooked to rare.”

“Mine will be medium, and lots of chips on the side. Why are you hanging around with Snape, Remus?”

He isn’t being snarky this time; he just sounds curious. “I’m not.”

“But in the library, you said—”

“You asked if I talked to him. I did, but it was a _brief_ conversation.”

“What about?”

“I really don’t know.” Sirius looks surprised. “I mean, he said something about Peter and Liegeard, but—I don’t know why he brought it up.”

“He’s just gloating that the big bad Slytherins beat up a Gryffindor.” 

“No, I don’t think so. I think he was glad that Liegeard got caught, but he couldn’t come right out and say so, you know what I mean? He’s got to live in that house.”

“You do like him.” 

Now that’s a tone I’m not used to from Sirius. Happy, angry, hysterical, yes— but sad? Sirius? 

“I’m just trying to figure him out.” Time to change to subject. “I was surprised to see you working ahead in Potions. You don’t usually do that.”

“Well, you were working ahead.”

“Just because of the moon tomorrow. If I don’t get ahead, I end up falling behind. That doesn’t explain why you were doing it.”

“Well, I just thought—oh, hell, Moony. If you need help in Potions, I want you to come ask _me_ , not that slimy git. I mean he never even washes his _hair_.”

Yes he does, Sirius. Every day. It just doesn’t help much.

 

_\--written April 2003_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story began as just a little atmospheric “Severus in the library” piece, but as soon as he saw Peter flirting with Jemma, a bit of a plot began to intrude. I thought that Remus might understand Severus’s actions (or at least try to), but Sirius would not. After all, Sirius and Severus are just a year away from the Whomping Willow “incident,” so the tension needs to be building between them. 
> 
> Remus and Sirius are not yet a couple in this story. They’d both think you were daft if you were to suggest it, but it's inevitable. 
> 
> Willaston, the Gryffindor Quidditch captain, belongs to CLS. He’s mentioned in her story “Fallen- Alternate Version.” (Yes, that Willaston.)


End file.
